


My Favorite Things

by muse_of_mbaku



Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Female Character of Color, Fluff, Reader of Color Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28120320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muse_of_mbaku/pseuds/muse_of_mbaku
Summary: One Shot of Kevin Atwater as Santa for a community event
Kudos: 1





	My Favorite Things

**Author's Note:**

> Recommended Listening: My Favorite Things by The Supremes

For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, you placed a gentle hand on the plush red shoulder of Santa and leaned down into the photo frame. Each time the scratchy fake beard grazed your cheek and you had to stifle a giggle. Between the wisp of the synthetic hairs and the throaty chuckle of your fake husband for the day, the hours seemed to be floating by. 

When you’d entered the room that morning you’d been briefly mesmerized by the eyes peeking out between the beard and the hat. You’d only had the smallest fraction of time to wave your fingers in hello before the chatter of children filled the room and you fell into the role of the perfect Mrs. Claus. 

Santa had flirted with you over cups of hot chocolate during a break—telling you the “story” of how he’d courted you with such conviction you almost believed him. According to him, once all this was said and done, the two of you were hitching the first sleigh smoking back to the North Pole and the hot tub that awaited beneath the stars. You’d laughed until it was hard to breathe with his stories of his reindeer team and how it was really Rudolph who had the big head. 

After the flash popped and yet another child slid off his lap and back into their parent’s arms, you stole a glance at the line. Four more to go. You watched the smallest of them with careful eyes. You could see a mixture of excitement and fear dancing across her features. By the time she was standing behind the plush rope at the head of the line the fear seemed to be winning out. 

You stepped from the platform, pulling your hand from Santa’s comforting grip and approached with the sweetest smile you could muster. Her mother whispered her name as you extended a white gloved hand towards the child. 

“Hi, sweetheart. I’m Mrs. Claus. Are you ready for your picture?” 

She took your hand and you launched into your “tour” speech, pointing out the animatronic reindeers and the robotic elves peering from the windows of the two-dimensional houses. When your feet hit the path towards Santa’s perch you felt the first hitch in her steps. 

“Ho! Ho! Ho!”

The boom of Santa’s greeting startled her and before long his voice was drowned out by shrieks. Crouching down in front of the chubby cheeked little girl, you swiped your thumbs across the tears spilling from her eyes. You tutted and cooed at her while giving her mother a quick hand gesture to let her know you’d take care of it. 

“Your name’s Eve, right? I know he seems scary. He’s big, huh?”

She nodded.

“No tears, little one. Tell me what Santa and I can do to make it all better.”

Eve sucked in a tiny gulp of air and whimpered a bit. She peered around your body at Santa among the faux wonderland. The massive candy canes standing tall to his left and right arched over him while evergreen garland fell in heavy ropes in the background. A replica sleigh overflowed with gifts suspended above a gingerbread house village. And among it all, the twinkle of golden string lights lit the real brick path winding towards the bright red riser sloping up to Santa’s seat. You knew the recreation of a land of sweets and snow was only an illusion, but when you’d entered the banquet hall this morning you’d been transported. You could only imagine how it would look to a child. You could also see how it could be overwhelming. Santa waved at Eve and she wailed again before turning her back to him. 

You used the smallest bit of pressure to turn her body towards him while rubbing tight circles against the back of her wool coat. She leaned into you and you took her beneath your arm.

“He’s really nice, sweetheart. I should know! I get to see him every day.”

You looked towards the man who’d folded at the waist to appear smaller. The beard may have hidden most of his smile, but you could see it by the crinkle at the corners of his eyes. 

“But if you don’t want to go talk to him you don’t have to. It’s okay. You just let me know, alright?”

Eve took a quick glance back towards her mother and then returned to you. She took a hesitant half step forward and stopped. 

“Want me to go first?”

You waited for her to nod once more before rising and taking the few short steps back towards Santa’s peppermint striped seat. The yards of cotton batting sank and gathered around your feet as you stayed in character and beamed at Santa as you approached. He held a gloved hand towards you to help you up the small riser. With a tug, he toppled you into his lap. You fell into it with a giggle, your head lolling back before you wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

“Careful there, wifey. Don’t want to spend Christmas morning stuck in bed.”

The deepened pitch of his voice almost made you confess perhaps that was exactly what you wanted. The weight of his hand on your waist was a bit too familiar, a bit too warm, and a bit too much like what you wished for. You wiggled your eyebrows at Santa.

“I’m sure you’d take great care of me. Now behave.”

“I make the naughty list, you know.”

“Then put yourself on it,” you laughed before straightening yourself and calling out to Eve.

“Would you like me to stay right here while you take the picture?”

She took one step. Then two. Then finally wobbled over and raised her arms towards you. Gathering her onto your lap, you readjusted your weight in Santa’s and propped your chin on her shoulder to peer towards the camera. A moment before the flash, Santa’s chin came to rest atop the velvet hat that covered your white curls. 

“See! He’s not that bad!” you said as you handed her mother the photo and waved a cheery goodbye to the last of the people filtering out of the hall and into the holiday season beyond the doors. 

Kicking off the horribly uncomfortable ankle boots that completed your costume, you rolled your shoulders to relieve the tension. You couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed playing pretend for the children, but you could be honest about how hot and uncomfortable the heavy wool, leather, and velvet costume could be. 

“About time!” Santa proclaimed and pulled the beard from his face with one hand and slid his hat off with the other. 

He met you halfway down the path and you were glad. That beard had most certainly hidden one of his best features. That mouth, the one currently breaking open into a brilliant smile, was now the sweetest thing in the room. Santa had the nerve to be fine! 

You watched him peel off the wide belt and then the jacket with rapt attention—a bit jealous he was unwrapping himself instead of you doing it for him. 

“You good?” he chuckled. 

“Yea…ummm…just gotta get my things. It’s getting kinda late,” you stammered and made a move to pass him. 

The warmth of his fingers filtered through your sleeve as he gripped your elbow. He pulled you softly into his orbit. Mischief danced in his eyes.

“Santa?”

His lopsided grin gave you butterflies.

“Yes, Mrs. Claus?”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“All day long.”

“Naughty, naughty.”

“You have no idea. Let me take you out tonight?” 

“Me let a strange man take me out into the Chicago night?”

“Not just any man. Santa. The dream fulfiller. The one who can give you anything your heart desires.”

“Anything?”

“Nothing off limits,” he drawled and let his fingers drop from your elbow. “You have something in mind? Because if not? I most certainly do.”


End file.
